


Snowed Under

by Tea_For_One_Please



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Humor, Light Angst, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:27:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28274571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tea_For_One_Please/pseuds/Tea_For_One_Please
Summary: When a snowstorm hits Chicago, Mike finds himself stuck in college. He makes plans to spend Christmas alone, but a surprise visitor changes everything.
Relationships: Will Byers/Mike Wheeler
Comments: 10
Kudos: 39





	Snowed Under

**Author's Note:**

> This is purely self-indulgent, because my WIPs are stressful and it's Christmas, damn it.
> 
> Happy holidays, everyone, whatever and however you celebrate!

Mike shivers, plunging his hands into the pockets of his hoodie as he shuffles a little closer to the space heater. It’s not especially effective, but it’s cheaper to run than using the actual central heating in the apartment, so he’s making do. After all, being as far north as it is, Chicago gets harsh winters, and the weather outside is little short of a blizzard.

He extracts one hand from the relative warmth of his hoodie, and dips it into the packet of chips he’s been grazing on. Not exactly the most nutritious meal, but he didn’t exactly plan on still being in his little studio apartment tonight. After all, it’s two days until Christmas, so he was expecting to be in Hawkins – but the weather has put paid to that particular plan.

His ancient car finally made its last journey a few weeks ago, after nearly thirty years’ service in his family. Instead, Nancy offered to come pick him up and take him home, but she, like him, is snowed under in Detroit, so she’s spending Christmas with Jonathan instead, leaving Mike on his own for Christmas – but having only discovered this less than twenty-four hours ago, his little apartment is not exactly well-stocked.

He’s got a few tins of soup, some dried pasta and a few eggs, which, he supposes, is downright sensible by most students’ standards, but it’s not enough to last him through Christmas Day. Nor is it any great substitute for the excellent dinner he’ll be missing back home.

 _I guess I’ll actually have to go the store tomorrow,_ he thinks tersely, glancing out of the window, where thick flakes of snow swirl around the streetlights. He’s not exactly thrilled at the prospect of braving the weather for over-priced seasonal goods (or anything, for that matter), but between that and starvation, he’ll take the frostbite.

He’s not heard from Will in a while, which is a weight on his mind as well. He’s been trying not to think about it, but he feels as though Will’s been avoiding him. Rationally, he knows this is ridiculous: they videocall most days and text through the others, and Will’s had a big design project due this week, as well as his photography portfolio. Mike himself has spent most of the week on his laptop trying to focus on researching his Classic Literature paper, but they haven’t called in a few days now, and Mike’s starting to worry that… well, that Will is planning on breaking up with him, and is trying to soften the blow.

When he thinks about it objectively, he knows he’s being ridiculous, but he can’t shake the thought. He checks his phone, more out of habit than anything – but still no message from Will, even though Mike texted him _hours_ ago. Admittedly, the reception is temperamental at the best of times, and absolutely atrocious in severe weather, but Mike’s still concerned.

He hears a car door slam in the street and glances out of the window. He can’t see much through the snow, but the faint glow of a taxi’s light is visible, and Mike thinks he hears someone shout a muffled word of thanks. he shivers again and sinks back into the couch, scrolling idly back through his text chain with Will, disheartened when he reaches last week’s messages after only a few minutes.

The buzzer sounds, and Mike jumps at the intrusive sound.

“Who the hell..?” he mutters, shrugging off the blanket and treading quickly but gently across the carpet (the neighbour below has regularly complained that he walks too loud). “Hello?” he says cautiously into the intercom, but only static greets him. Some joker, no doubt. He tuts crossly, annoyed at being dragged from his warm position for no reason.

He’s just sat down again when there’s a knock on the apartment door. Mike lets out a guttural groan as he stands up, muttering to the effect that if it’s Mr Kendall from downstairs he’s going to push him down the stairs. He pulls open the door, bracing himself for a fight, but freezes in shock.

There, bundled up in a hat, coat and a scarf that barely conceals his grin, is his boyfriend.

“Will?” he croaks, his voice rough from lack of use, as Will lets out an excited squeak and throws his arms around Mike. “What the hell are you doing here?” he exclaims into Will’s shoulder, and by way of answer, Will pulls out of the hug and presses his lips firmly against Mike’s.

“Surprise,” he says gleefully when they break apart, stepping in and shutting the door behind him.

“I’m so confused,” Mike says with a bemused laugh, surreptitiously reaching for the thermostat and turning it up.

“Jonathan called me last night,” Will explains, tugging off his multitude of extra clothing. “I was putting the finishing touches on my portfolio, so he left a message saying that Nancy couldn’t come get you, so you’d be spending Christmas alone.” Mike nods, helping him remove his coat and hanging his hat and gloves on the wall heater. “So I booked the first flight I could, and got a cab from the airport. Gotta say, did not love landing in this weather.”

“Wait a minute,” Mike says slowly. “You flew from Louisville to Chicago to see me?”

“Duh,” says Will, like it’s obvious.

“But what about your mom, and Hopper, and El?”

“They’re fine,” he says dismissively. “I called them and explained. Hop even said they’d contribute the flight costs.”

“But… but…” Mike stutters, trying to make sense of this, “…why?”

“‘Why’?” Will repeats curiously. “Because I love you, you dork, and I want to spend Christmas with you.”

Mike takes a moment to process this – here he was, fretting that Will was planning to break up with him, when instead he must have spent at least a hundred dollars to make sure Mike wouldn’t spend Christmas by himself. “I love you too,” he says in wonderment, pulling him into another hug. “I’m afraid I don’t have much in,” he says feebly.

“Didn’t think you would,” Will replies, a little more gently. Mike can only assume the adrenaline is wearing off. Thinking about it, Will’s portfolio deadline was midnight last night, and goodness knows when he left this morning. He must be exhausted. “I asked the cab driver to stop by Wendy’s on the way.”

“Oh my god, I love you even more now.” There’s a tremor of a sigh in his voice, and Will gives him that funny look again.

“When was the last time you ate?”

“Five minutes ago,” Mike says truthfully.

Will narrows his eyes, and Mike knows that’s not what he means. All the same, as Will reaches into his backpack for the food, Mike decides it’s not worth it. Instead, he uses the distraction to shove the space heater to the side of the room and kick the empty chip bag under the couch to be dealt with later. He grabs the blanket, though, and retreats to the bed.

“You must be freezing,” he says to Will as he joins him under the blanket, snuggling into him as he passes the Wendy’s bag over.

“Ugh, yeah,” Will mutters as Mike breathes in the warm, salty aroma of the bag and pulls out a chicken sandwich. “It’s awful out there. And that’s mine,” he adds sharply, seizing the sandwich. “Yours is underneath.”

“What’s the difference?”

“The difference is that I’m not a heathen, and I don’t ruin my food with mayo.”

“Excuse me,” Mike says, affronted, “A chicken sandwich without mayonnaise is just dry bread and dry meat.”

“The way God intended,” Will replies firmly.

Mike arches an eyebrow. “We, of all people – ”

“Oh, shut up.”

Will chuckles lightly, flicking Mike’s face to make him squeak in protest, but he doesn’t. Nor does he complain when, as they settle down to sleep, Will’s legs twist around his (Will’s perpetually cold feet have always been a sticking point in their relationship). After all, he’s just glad Will’s here. It certainly isn’t what he imagined Christmas would look like, but even so, it could just turn out to be one of the best ones ever.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! If so, please do leave a comment with your thoughts or hit me up on Tumblr (@tea-for-one-please)!


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